


Black Cat Luck

by wintersjackson



Series: Urban Magic RWBY [2]
Category: RWBY
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern with Magic, Alternate Universe - Urban Fantasy, F/F, Flashforward - Freeform, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-29
Updated: 2014-12-29
Packaged: 2018-03-04 03:57:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,611
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2908505
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wintersjackson/pseuds/wintersjackson
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The first in an ongoing Urban Magic AU for the RWBY cast. Weiss is America’s foremost Shaman, a legendary figure of great power and wisdom-but she wasn't always that way…</p>
            </blockquote>





	Black Cat Luck

Shadows fled before the shining figure, as well they should, Weiss mused. The Schnee Director cut a stunning figure even in this ruin, cold white outfit scattering the moonlight that came through the ruined ceiling over the scrap, the rubble and the gleaming eyes.

[The first in an ongoing Urban Magic AU for the RWBY cast. Weiss is America’s foremost Shaman, a legendary figure of great power and wisdom-but she wasn’t always that way…]

This had been a Schnee building, once- hundreds of all kinds, working together for the good of the company. But something had gone wrong, someone had fallen, and the people had fled, leaving the building to collapse and rot and fester. At least, that was how it looked to her Third Eye-she shifted her staff across her vision, cutting off the conflicting, mingling images once again for the gloom she knew truly surrounded her.

The deaths had soiled the place, made it welcome to the spirits now crawling among the shadows. She’d confronted them, offered them the chance to leave peacefully and return to the underworld that spawned them long ago, but they’d hissed and spat and retreated. She’d followed them here, to their sanctum, and the hissing that was their speech had grown harsh and aggressive. Still, they kept well clear of the circle of moonlight, keeping to the murk that was their home. Moonlight filled the factory, cutting through the shadows and the grime, on a night where clouds covered horizon to horizon.

“Twice I offer and frankly you don’t deserve that much,” Weiss called loudly, letting her skirt rustle and scatter the light across the walls. An eclectic mix of fashion and tradition, united in colour alone. Still, that luminous ensemble had become a mark of fear and hatred in the dark places of the county. It was certainly enough to make the spirits shrink back. She sighed, holding her staff ready but with a touch of disappointment. “This is your last chance. What happens next is entirely your doing.”

The roar of response shook her to her bones as the shadows exploded outwards, a huge lumbering shape sending debris and stone flying in a wave. She barely had time to react before it sent her sprawling, explosions of light bursting behind her brow as her head cracked against the concrete. She stumbled back to her feet as the thing charged, cursing herself for relaxing even for a moment in such dangerous territory, and wobbled almost upright as the thing jumped. She thrust the staff forward, feeding that flash of terror into a spear of starlight even as its bulk blotted out the sky.

Until a shadow the size of a truck crashed into it in mid-air, knocking the skewered beast away and crushing it to tatters as the two landed. The great beast, purple in the light, rose from the remains and padded back to stand over Weiss. A great tail twitched back and forth, but only that corona of light seemed to outline the creature at all against the blackness until white teeth flashed in a cruel grin.

Weiss reached up, stroking the fur on the underside of her companion gently. “Thanks, Blake,” she murmured, feeling the vibration of a tiny purr rumble through her friend.

The remaining shadows cowered in a corner, as far from the Shaman and her Spirit Guide as they could reach, and any sympathy Weiss might have felt was currently melting on the floor with the remains of the shadow beast. She once again raised her staff and let the banishing ritual flow out through her eyes and down her arms, easy as breathing, until the factory was consumed by cleansing, warming light.

With their record, reputation, and general legendary status, it was hard to believe -and even stranger to remember- what the two of them had been like when they met, only seven or so years ago.

~

“For the final time I am not going to find you salmon at three o’clock on a Saturday morning!” Weiss shrieked into the room, stomping her feet with frustration. Once again she thanked whoever had designed the Schnee mansion with magical soundproofing considering the family’s general distaste for the stuff. Now all she needed was to not need to be screaming in the middle of the night, and she’d be just fine.

Settled sedately on the bed, the large feline continued to wash itself, flicking the girl a disdainful look before stretching slowly over as much of the bed as she could reach.

“Not with that attitude,” Blake rumbled, jet-black unreadable as ever. “But compared to a simple cleansing ritual it’s something a kitten would have no trouble with. And you can…almost do a simple cleansing ritual.”

Weiss gave a distinctly unladylike curse and sank back into the desk chair, wondering what cruel deity had decided she, specifically, deserved this. She’d grown up thinking she was going to be the Director of Schnee company, a business woman, and the worst thing she’d have to deal with would be supernatural-friendly investors. Then she’d managed to wake up apparently in the centre of the planet where she was told she was a shaman, the only true human link between humans and spirits, and that the fate of both worlds was going to rely on her bringing peace between her people and the world they chose to ignore.

It was one hell of a sixteenth birthday.

Of course, one could hardly argue with the very spirit of life on the planet, but since then she’d gone over many times in her head about where she should have told the spirit to stuff it. She hadn’t even spoken to a non-human before that day, at quite some trouble by her family. She’d never tried a spell, met an elf, written a rune-within the Schnee household, it could have been as if the supernatural didn’t exist at all.

Exactly as they would have liked it.

Of course, the spirit had promised her she wouldn’t be making the journey alone. She had been warned to watch for a spirit guide, who would take her hand and lead her in the ways she was not familiar.

That same guide who was, currently, refusing to let her go to bed and abandon this whole disastrous attempt at a cleansing ritual until she was supplied with fish. The incense had made them both choke and was now sinking into the carpet, the runestone was smudged and shaky and half the consecrated paint was now drying on Weiss’s hands and face, and she was beginning to suspect Blake had eaten the herbal disaster when she’d been trying to fan what was left of the burnt offering out of the window. The cat-cat spirit, cat Fae, Weiss barely understood what the terms meant and Blake was in no rush to explain- had been the most lazy, unhelpful, sarcastic, self-centred, complete attention-hog and narcissist ever since she had shown up, and in truth by now Weiss was close to tears.

Everything they’d tried had ended up like this. Rituals ended in shambles and basic spells and language lessons left Weiss more confused than when she started. Blake’s attention span was abysmal in comparison to everything but her work ethic, against which it was positively impressive. So, for months now they’d fumbled through what Blake insisted were the simplest of exercises and virtual child’s play, and Weiss had less to show for it than when she started. Overcome with frustration and suddenly tired, she dropped her head to her hands, refusing to let the cat see her cry as she shook with the admission to herself that she really didn’t know what she was doing.

“Would you look at that,” Blake suddenly said, tone ever so slightly proud. Weiss peeked out from between her fingers hesitantly, and her jaw dropped as what she was looking at sank in.

In the middle of the room, floating above where the components lay in their abandoned pile, a faint ethereal thread of silver waved gently. The air in the room blew gently around it, the scents of bitter herbs and burnt greenwood slowly being replaced with something distant but familiar, and deeply soothing.

For a moment Weiss was too entranced by the tiny, fragile thread to notice the figure towering over her. She jumped when she did, falling out of her seat before the hulking shape gave a strangely familiar yawn.

“…Blake?” She asked hesitantly, struggling to align the immaculately dressed, devastatingly beautiful dark skinned woman towering over her. But the eyes were the same black disks, and Weiss let the woman gently help her to her feet.

“There is a girl on Third Avenue, just outside the all-night deli,” Blake said, and suddenly the cat’s deep, caramel tone seemed much more natural coming from this figure. “Her bike has broken down, and she does not have the money to call for help. Her sister is asleep on the back, and does not know.” Blake blinked, expression blank. “The girl is a novice mage and was raised among many spirits and creatures. She would be better able to answer your questions than I.”

Blake reached out and took Weiss’s chin carefully, lips suddenly splitting in a predatory smile before she stepped out of sight and a familiar heavy shape wound around Weiss’s feet.

“You can go make conversation while they’re packing up my fish…”

Weiss took a breath, heart still racing as much as at what had just happened as what she had just achieved. Coughing to cover the blush which suddenly, finally raced over her cheeks, she reached out and grabbed her keys.


End file.
